


emotions

by SilverRollu



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-09
Updated: 2012-09-09
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverRollu/pseuds/SilverRollu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Apollo picks up on more than just nervous ticks. It's fear, loneliness, desperation, love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	emotions

**Author's Note:**

> This came out much longer than expected.
> 
> Five-points
> 
> Tumblr mirror [here](http://kuose.tumblr.com/post/31214246040)

**I.**

When a person tenses up in front of him, that brown heirloom on Apollo’s wrist would tighten―sometimes uncomfortably, other times just snapping like an inch he can’t scratch―and his mind would go into overdrive. Everything is heightened, his senses. He catches lies and contradictions this way. But it’s more than just picking up on nervous habits and small, tense twitches. Sometimes he sees everything. Sometimes it’s fear; it’s anger, it’s sadness. Desperation. Eagerness, fatigue. Happiness. At first he doesn’t always _see_ it, per se, but Apollo _feels_ it when he’s not even trying.

Klavier sits across from Apollo, on the other side of this small table out on the patio of some little coffee shop. His cup, half-empty, probably still warm to the touch, sits to his left―he’s leaned back in his chair, body swaying towards his right in favor of the hand holding up his chin. Apollo already downed his drink. His tongue still tingles, memory of that hot―too hot―should’ve _waited_ for it to cool a bit, should’ve waited―liquid dances on his numb taste buds. Black, slightly sweet, bitter, coats the roof of his mouth.

There’s a bit of idle small talk. Fleeting conversations and mentions of cases, previous and present, pass when they finally settle out of work and into something decidedly…friendly. Observations, stories, jokes. Banter flies back and forth, between laughs and chuckles and smiles and grins. Apollo’s gotten over his initial nervousness. Klavier relaxes, leans back a little more, and starts recollecting a childhood story. The bracelet on Apollo’s wrist tightens, just a bit, so he looks up to the blond. Klavier is idly tapping away a beat on the table. It’s not hard and it’s not loud, not even fast. Just steady, rhythmic.

When his fingers twitch he reaches the climax of his story, and there’s genuine, shared laughter. Klavier’s attention stays on Apollo. He pauses for a moment, then grins.

Giddiness. Like a child.

Apollo rubs his wrist and smiles back.

**II.**

He leans back in his seat, closes his eyes and rests his guitar comfortably in lap. Apollo watches with a small curiosity. A moment passes in silence; Neither says anything, but the absence of speech is comfortable. Soon Klavier takes in a deep breath, straightens himself a little, and begins to play.

Apollo, at first, simply listens. The sweet sound of the guitar’s acoustics is a pleasant change from the usual ear-trashing fare of the Gavinners. He starts tapping his foot before he realizes what he’s doing―he’s bent over in his own chair, face resting in one hand while the other taps against his leg. Then he starts to see. Little strains of concentration manifest as an arched eyebrow on Klavier’s face, a slight curve of the lips. Klavier’s taps his foot as well, and it’s no different than what Apollo’s doing himself. Except that it is. It’s practiced and focused and it’s part of the little show he’s performing.

When it’s over a few minutes later and Klavier is looking at him, expectantly, Apollo feels a tug and wonders why the prosecutor would feel nervous now.

**III.**

Klavier calls Apollo up Friday night, asks him what he’s doing on Saturday. Somehow, unsurprisingly, he discovered that the defense attorney had been void of any actual cases to ‘defend’ lately, and as such suggested they spend some of their free time together.

“Well, Herr Forehead?” he suggests with a chuckle, “How’s dinner sound?”

So Saturday night is spent out at a nice restaurant―fancy wine, cuisine, music, the works. Everything is a little too high-brow for Apollo, but Klavier insists that it’s okay and that he’ll pick up the bill (though this conclusion comes only after a long argument, one that Apollo doesn’t win). The meal and their time, unexpectedly (at least to socially awkward Apollo), is very pleasant, the food great, and by the end of the night Apollo has nearly forgotten that he was actually on a date with the prodigy prosecutor.

Apollo is escorted back to his apartment by Klavier, simply because Klavier insists on doing this date thing right. When they reach his doorstep the Gavin turns to him, flashing one of his charming smiles. Oh, he’s charming alright, smooth when he tips Apollo’s chin up and kisses him. Apollo’s cheeks shine like a beacon when they separate, and Klavier grins and comments, “mein cute little Forehead.” He lets his fingers linger on his chin, moving the tips to eventually settle on Apollo’s cheek.

Apollo is rendered a bit speechless, but manages to stammer out, “U-uhm, Klavier?”

“Hm?”

“Well, um…goodnight.”

The man chuckles. “Gute Nacht, Apollo.”

He leaves another kiss on the younger’s cheek and makes his way back to his bike. Apollo watches him drive away, waving as he did, all the while rubbing his wrist and _thinking_. Thinking as he settles in and gets dressed for bed, thinking as he lay there, staring at the ceiling for who knows how long just knowing that Klavier is most likely doing the exact same thing.

He sends one last goodnight text before heading to sleep: _‘Stop feeling so lonely’_

**IV.**

Their first time is slow, a little awkward (for Apollo, anyway), and…probably the best thing Apollo’s ever felt. Sure, he’s had sexual experiences before, but nothing was comparable to Klavier. Klavier, the rock star prosecutor. The one whose very skilled fingers, ones that have mastered the strings of dozens of guitars and played the skin of many lucky lovers, were on _him. Touching_ him. Doing things that he’s never even felt before, let alone with another male.

Apollo had waited a while before eventually falling to Klavier’s advances, due to some, frankly silly and irrational, fears. And they were fears that his boyfriend dispels rather quickly―with kisses to his lips, his jawline, his throat, down his shoulders where he breathes against his skin, “you’re lovely, Apollo…”

When Apollo is damn near shaking because of his dumb nerves Klavier pins him to the bed underneath his weight and grinds against him and, God, Apollo chokes on a moan so loud that he’s nearly _silent_. He digs his fingers into the prosecutor’s back and pushes against him, desperate for more. But Klavier continues to tease him with light touches, kisses, nothing that gives Apollo what he really wants―it isn’t until he finally takes some control and (red-faced, lust-driven) says exactly what he _needs_ that Klavier obediently drops the act and follows his “lead”.

Tired, sweaty, and fulfilled Apollo takes a moment to catch his breath. Still riding that orgasmic high he turns to Klavier, who’s in the same state and chuckling breathlessly, and watches his face. He watches the smile on the other male’s face grow as he leans over, offering up another soft kiss before moving the blonde hair from his own face.

“…you’re quite bossy when you want to be, ja?”

“…shut up,” Apollo says, half-heartedly and Klavier laughs again. It was great, he couldn’t believe he had been so nervous before. In the afterglow he felt that strange apprehension, whatever it was, uncoil from his gut and he takes in a deep breath as he shifts just a little closer to his boyfriend.

He feels a bit sleepy but he doesn’t fall out because he can feel Klavier’s eyes on him. It makes him look up, straight into the man’s eyes, and what he sees there freezes in his chest.

**V.**

It happens after one of their trials.

Apollo makes a remark about the case they’ve just wrapped up, how they’d managed (as they usually do, all together and unexpectedly) to draw out the real criminal through their back and forth reasoning. And how Apollo, once again, performed a complete turnabout at the last moment.

The defendant showers Apollo with praise before leaving, for he was able to finally see his only daughter as a free man. But the murder of his wife…regardless of his innocence, would still be a heavy load to bear, which is something Apollo mentions to Trucy with a straight, almost pained expression. She understands, of course, the lost of a mother. But she instantly chippers up, like she usually does when Apollo starts to worry about her.

“I’m fine, really!” Trucy pinches his cheeks, then gives him an encouraging smile. “Aw Polly, don’t make that face…!”

“The fräulein is right. That expression doesn’t suit you, mein forehead.”

Apollo is taken back a bit by the sudden intrusion of his boyfriend’s voice. He had been so lost in his sudden worry for his assistant (if that was the proper term to refer to Trucy, he’s tried to think about this before, but decided that it didn’t matter) that he didn’t notice the man approaching them. He steps back, but not far, as Klavier is standing right behind him, leaning over his shoulder and smiling down at him.

“Oh, Klavier!”

“No need to sound so surprised, ja? Weren’t you expecting me?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to pop up behind me like that. Can’t you, y’know,” he makes a large gesture as he says this, “appear like a normal person?”

Klavier chuckles, “but what’s the fun in that?” Next he moves to hug Apollo, which takes the younger man by surprise (though by now it shouldn’t). Apollo stiffens up reflexively, even jumping a little, before realizing that it was okay, it’s just Klavier hugging him, he should relax. Public displays of affection still aren’t a thing that he’s used to, and it’s not a thing that happens too often, so when Klavier gives him a little squeeze then proceeds to simply drape one arm over his shoulder he’s more than thankful.

For a moment Apollo is more than a little caught up in the open affection that he doesn’t pick up on Trucy’s giggling immediately. Not until Klavier speaks up.

“And how are you doing today, fräulein?” he asks, and Trucy is bouncing on her toes.

“Great!” She responds, smiling. “And I bet Polly is too, now that you’re here! Gosh, could you two be any cuter?”

Apollo half frowns, half scoffs. “Shut up.”

Trucy doesn’t have a comeback to that. Instead she fixes herself with this knowing stare and a giddy smile, and Apollo can just feel his face starting to burn just from _knowing_ that she knows. Whatever it was that she knew, however, he’d rather not think about.

Klavier takes to Trucy’s compliment very quickly, as it’s easy fodder for his teasing. Apollo is less than pleased by the fact that this happens while they stand in the middle of the lobby, and even as the group slowly merges towards the building’s exit, Apollo is still countering Klavier’s playful quips. It goes along the lines of, “no one is cuter than you”, “I’m _not_ cute, I’m a grown man”, “why deny the truth so openly?” “because you’re an idiot”, “oh, this hurts me greatly”, “yeah well.”

“How did I fall in love with someone so annoying?”

And everything stops.

It’s mid-afternoon, they’re all standing right outside the courthouse, and people are passing all around them. Trucy is speechless and Klavier mirrors her expression closely. And Apollo –Apollo isn’t sure of what just happened, but he finds his eyes widening and his hand, from where it sits against Klavier’s forearm (resting slack on his shoulder), twitching with surprise.

“…wh…at.” It starts slowly, as if he’s testing his words, tasting the sound on his tongue, “What did I just…” The first thing he does is turn to Klavier, looking for solace in his confusion and finding something decidedly different. Something different and soft and not all that foreign but it’s a warm _longing_ settling in the blue of his lover’s eyes.

“You said you love me.”

And it’s in that moment that Apollo realizes, yes, Klavier has professed feelings of love before –maybe offhandedly, in a deep song, or softly, in his native language, _Ich liebe dich_ — but Apollo has never said anything of the like before. Not in public, not in private, even.

That’s the foreign concept here.

“I…I did.”

“You did.”

“Y-yeah.” Apollo’s eyes are now everywhere but at the man right in front of him. He feels backed into a corner; he was just comfortable mere moments ago but was now turning into a nervous wreck, and his wrist was almost burning in his conflict.

By this time Trucy has made herself scarce.

Klavier has moved his arm from Apollo’s shoulders to a lower spot on the man’s back, and is staring rather intently. He isn’t grinning. That makes Apollo swallow. “I love you too, you know. Apollo.” And his _Apollo_ is soft and heavy all at the same time and damn, is the younger attorney shaking now.

“I’m,” Apollo is taking shallow breaths. Don’t freak out Justice, you got this. “Yeah, I,” Wow, how did you let that word slip out earlier are you even ready for this yet? “I-I’m, you.”

“You love me too.”

“Yes, that.” Exhale, “love.”

Klavier throws all caution to the air when he kisses Apollo right there, in front of the courthouse, mid-afternoon, with people walking in and out of the doors behind them. Apollo can only mutter the word again, deep and slow, the next time they part because it’s the only thing he can feel right now.


End file.
